Should States Guarantee a Right to Know Your Biological Parents?

A debate is brewing over what rights adopted and donor-conceived children should have to learn their genetic parentage.

Until recently, children of closed adoptions in Georgia would have to hire an attorney and make the case in court that they needed to know the identity of their biological parents. But a new law ensures that adoptees who are at least 18 years old can get access to a copy of their original birth certificates.

“If they were curious about where they came from, what their heritage is, and in some cases, where they were born … If there was some medical event where they were needing to find out something, the birth certificates were not available to them,” says Sen. Randy Robertson, co-sponsor of the new Georgia law and an adoptive father himself.

Adopted children have amended birth certificates that list their legal parents — those responsible for raising them — while their original birth certificate may be sealed or kept confidential. The original certificate includes details like the date and time of birth; place of birth; whether the child is a twin, triplet or more; name given at the time; the biological mother’s name and sometimes the biological father’s name.

As of 2021, 18 states imposed a court process for someone to get access to their original birth certificate, while 10 allowed U.S.-born adoptees “unfettered” access. Other states allow for viewing censored versions of the document, restrict access to adoptees born in certain years, or require birth parents’ consent.

Robertson says his bill was partially driven by the expectations that the Supreme Court's Dobbs decision would lead to many more adoptive and foster-care children.

A similar dispute is also simmering over whether children conceived with donated sperm, eggs or embryos should be able to learn their biological parentage.

The Importance of Genetic History

Kara Rubinstein Deyerin, the founder of Right to Know, a support and advocacy organization for people affected by adoption or donor-conception, has personal experience with receiving false information about her biological parentage. Rubinstein Deyerin grew up believing she was half Black on her father’s side, but an at-home DNA test led her and her mother to discover that Rubinstein Deyerin was actually half Ashkenazi Jewish, conceived after her parents had separated.

“I was raised half Black, only to learn that I was not. That really set me on an identity crisis,” she says. Rubinstein Deyerin argues that children will still love the parents who are raising them, but deserve to know their genetic history. “When you’re a child … if you aren’t like your parents, even just one of them, you internalize, ‘What’s wrong with me?’ … [It] impacts sense of belonging, it impacts attachment and it impacts identity.”

Richard Uhrlaub, himself adopted, has advocated for years for more access to original birth records. Urhlaub, president of the Coalition for Truth and Transparency in Adoption (CTTA), recalls a 64-year-old adoptee who had asked a court to grant him a right to his birth records because he was suffering a serious, hard-to-diagnose medical condition and hoped that learning his medical history would help. The judge denied the request, saying the man had not demonstrated sufficiently strong need.

“We helped him appeal that, but he died during the appeal,” Uhrlaub says. “So, it’s not just idle curiosity.”

Rubinstein Deyerin recalls a woman who got a double mastectomy on a doctor’s recommendation that it would lower her chance of breast cancer, given genetic risks on both sides of her family; only later did the woman learn she was adopted and her biological parents carried no such risk.

“When you know your genetic identity, you have the correct manual for your car,” Rubinstein Deyerin says.

CTTA and Right to Know advocate for states to create long-form birth certificates that would list genetic parents — donors, birth parents or surrogates — as well as legal parents. These could become available to adoptees and donor-conceived people when they turn 18. A short-form birth certificate, meanwhile, could be used publicly for routine identification matters such as signing up for school or Little League.

The Legislative Landscape

Advocates for greater information sharing have celebrated legislative wins in Colorado. In 2016, adult adoptees in the state became able to access their original birth records, while the records remained confidential from the general public. This year, Colorado became the first state to require that sperm or egg donors agree to allow donor-conceived children who are at least 18 years old to access identifying and medical information about them.

Colorado’s law also requires sperm and egg banks to regularly contact genetic parents to maintain up-to-date contact information and stay abreast of their medical details. Should the companies face closure, they must share their latest information with donors and recipients.

Not everyone has been on board with these types of policies. Ole Schou, founder of global sperm and egg bank Cryos, says requiring people to agree to disclose their identities will undoubtedly reduce donations.

The evidence on that point has been mixed. More than a dozen countries, including Switzerland, have banned anonymous donation. A Swiss news site credited a 2001 law against donor anonymity with reducing the number of people donating sperm in the following year.

In 2005, the United Kingdom adopted a law requiring any new donors to agree that their identities could be disclosed to any children conceived with their gametes or embryos once they turned 18. By 2008, reports suggested that fewer people were donating eggs, while a slightly higher number of people were donating sperm. U.K. sperm donors’ preferences also shifted: They were more likely to restrict their sperm to being used only by a specific friend or relative, and fertility clinic waitlists were running long.

A study in Australia, however, found no impact on donor levels in the seven years after the country removed sperm donor anonymity.

“It’s very difficult to find sufficient numbers of sperm donors and egg donors,” Schou says. “If [a policy like Colorado’s] expands to more states, it will be a problem. And then there'll be a waiting list, there'll be lack of supply, and people will not accept it, and then they will go to other states and have their wishes fulfilled there.”

Keeping up-to-date contact information for donors will also prove too administratively burdensome for most organizations, Schou says. Rubinstein Deyerin agrees; she’d like a federally managed registry to handle such details and ensure records are preserved.

Biological parents — whether they are donating genetic material or putting their child up for adoption — may have a multitude of reasons for wishing to keep their identities private. Adoptive parents, too, might fear that children knowing about their birth parents will weaken adoptive parents’ relationship with the child or jeopardize their legal rights. Uhrlaub’s mother had shut down questions about his own adoption, he recalled, telling him she was his mom and he didn’t need to know more.

But the Internet and widespread availability of consumer DNA kits means no one can truly remain anonymous anymore. Even if biological parents themselves don’t take such tests, they may be revealed if their relatives do.

Cryos only lets donors choose whether or not the bank will disclose their identity to a child who reaches out. Given the state of technology today, it cannot offer more privacy than that.

“Anonymous donations really don't exist,” Schou says.